


Roommate Adventures

by Kashimalin



Category: Notice Me Senpai! (Video Game)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Comedy, Roommates, they're all TECHNICALLY senpais now though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-14
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2018-08-31 01:14:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8556946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kashimalin/pseuds/Kashimalin
Summary: A Notice Me Senpai AU where, instead of going their separate ways, Kyouya, Haruka, and Viktor are roommates while attending university. Thus begins their mildly hectic lives as they try to navigate the real world and learn there's more to life than just books and studying!





	1. The Mouse Incident

“It was right there!”

“I didn’t see anything.”

“It was _right there,_ it just ran by the wall, how did you _not_ see it, Kyouya?!”

“Maybe because I don’t imagine things like you do.”

Viktor had all but jumped onto the table in the kitchen, staring at a corner. Kyouya was looking at him from where he stood at the stove, trying to finish the stir fry for dinner before Haruka came home.

“I don’t understand why you’re so afraid of a mouse. Text Haruka to stop by the hardware store. We all knew that this apartment was old and most likely had mice in it when we took it for school.”

“Yes, _but we haven’t seen any before._ ”

“I cannot believe you are willing to explore graveyards, temples, and castles for your history research, possibly irritate the paranormal with your ridiculous séances, and walk the streets at night in all dark clothing to potentially be hit by a car… yet you flinch at the sight of the mouse.”

“Please be on my side here, Kyouya.”

Kyouya had been about to suggest that he text Haruka again when the door to the apartment opened and Haruka trudged up the last few stairs, hanging up his coat and dropping his bag dramatically to the floor.

“It smells delicious in here,” he commented aloud, coming into the kitchen to see the scene of Viktor crawling down from his perch on the chair and Kyouya giving a wave of his spatula in greeting. “Why were you on the table?”

“Because I saw a mouse run by the kitchen wall,” Viktor said smoothly, and Haruka nodded in understanding. “Oh, we’ve finally seen one then?”

“I didn’t, and I’m sure Viktor is just overreacting,” Kyouya commented as he turned off the stove, but nobody replied to him. He looked up to see the two other men staring behind him to under the window of their kitchen, and he turned to look as well, and saw the small brown mouse that was sitting there, meek and almost adorable… if it wasn’t for the fact that it was _in their house._

“Kill it!” came with Viktor’s lunge out at the rodent, and it gave a squeak and darted towards the wall while Viktor attempted to catch it with his bare hands. Instead, he fell to the floor empty-handed with an “Owww.”

“I don’t know what you expected.” Kyouya sounded almost bored as he began to get plates out of the cabinet. “Get up off the floor so you can eat the dinner you didn’t help with.”

“No, I’m buying traps _right now._ ” With that, Viktor scrambled off the floor and ran to grab his wallet before dashing out the door, leaving it swinging into the wall behind him. Kyouya and Haruka could only stare with a sigh and resignation that, once again, the three of them would not be eating together again.

“At least it’s not me this time,” Haruka said with a smile as he took the plate from Kyouya, who chuckled in response.

“At least it’s not you.”

* * *

“Well, this is unpleasant.”

A day had passed since Viktor had seen the mouse and ran out the door to buy traps, and now, Kyouya and Viktor were staring down at one that had sprung at some point overnight. There were small red stains, showing that something had been caught, but escaped with its life. Haruka came into the kitchen while they were still looking, opening the fridge for the leftovers that Kyouya packed away from dinner. “What’s the matter?”

“The trap’s gone off,” Viktor began, standing up slowly, “but nothing’s in it.”

“That _is_ unpleasant. Well, at least it’s injured.” Haruka closed the fridge and put the container into the microwave, hitting a few buttons while Viktor wrung his hands.

“Yes, which means it’s going to die soon! What if it dies while stuck in the walls? It’s going to start smelling.”

“Or the other mice will probably eat it,” Kyouya said flatly.

“Don’t you even start— that’s so _disgusting_ , don’t ruin Haruka’s appetite!”

“Nothing can, really,” he replied casually as he took the container out. “I’d love to stick around and watch you two hunt for this mouse, but I’ve got an exam to study for and I’ll be taking priorities.” He gave a bright smile. “Good luck! Let me know when you catch it.”

Viktor and Kyouya turned to each other with a sigh, deciding to split up and begin listening and searching around the apartment. They pulled back bedsheets, tapped at walls, and even pulled up their few scattered rugs to see if there were any holes. Kyouya attempted to examine the trap to see if they could follow a blood trail from the mouse’s injured leg, but there was no point to it – the splatters had been minimal and there was nothing to go by, just the knowledge that a part of its body had been hit and the trap had clearly been sprung.

“If it dies in the walls and I have nightmares about getting eaten by huge mice, I’m blaming you,” Viktor muttered from across the living room while they were pulling up rugs. Kyouya sighed, shifting back the table he had moved.

“Do you want it to die that badly?”

“Yes! It needs to be exterminated in case there’s a girl mouse and they make more mice and—“

“Oh my God, please shut up. We haven’t found anything, and there’s hardly anywhere left to look in the apartment. We’ll check the traps in the morning.”

Viktor only consented because Kyouya was right – there really weren’t a lot of places to look in their living space, which had the necessities and that was all. They had combed it over twice and found nothing, which led them both to assume that it was either in Haruka’s room, or in the walls. They both looked to the closed door of Haruka’s bedroom, and silently swore that they would not interrupt his studies for anything. With that, they just decided to turn in for the night and hope that the mouse would be found the next morning in a trap.

* * *

Two days later, Viktor trudged down the narrow stairwell with his basket of dirty bedsheets, sighing with relief when he saw that the washer was empty and Kyouya was just getting his clothes out of the dryer and folding them neatly into his basket.

“Thank God,” he declared, pausing at the washer. “Do you need any help, Kyouya?”

“No, thank you, I’d rather you not fold my clothes and mess up the system. I’m also sure that judging by the state of your room, you don’t even know how to fold clothes.”

“…That’s cold, man.” With that, Viktor turned his basket over and dumped all the contents out onto the floor. The sheets spilled out, and with them, came a small furry lump.

“Holy _sh_ —!” The curse became a scream of bloody murder as Viktor threw his basket aside and vaulted onto the washer, getting as far away from the pile of sheets as possible. “It’s the mouse! Kyouya! Kyouya, kill it!”

Meanwhile, Kyouya had almost doubled over in laughter at Viktor’s reaction, holding onto the edge of the dryer for support as he looked at the mouse, which, judging by the fact it had not moved, laid dead on the sheets. “Oh… oh my God, it must have crawled into your basket to die in comfort.”

“I’m texting Haruka, oh my God, you are of _no_ help to me at all. You suck, Kyouya.”

Kyouya had eventually settled down by the time Haruka descended the stairs, looking around at the scene of Kyouya trying to wipe away tears of laughter with a smile on his face, and Viktor atop the washer, then at the dead rodent with a mangled leg. With a sigh, he flicked the plastic shopping bag he brought down open, before picking the mouse up, tying the handles closed, and unceremoniously dumping it in the trash. His expression was completely neutral, until he turned to the two other men who were standing and staring in awe at how calmly he had just taken the entire situation. With a smile, he merely said:

“Neither of you would survive medical school.”


	2. The Pumpkin Pies

The three men in the second floor apartment rarely ate dinner together. If it was Viktor and Kyouya, it meant that Haruka was missing, most likely cramming for an exam or on a work shift for medical school. If Viktor was missing, he was out taking a walk, on a trip abroad, or barely waking up from his afternoon nap and wasn’t hungry. And if Kyouya wasn’t around, nobody really ate at all. Haruka would do his best at making something for himself and Viktor, but they would always just end up getting a pizza. And each time Kyouya was home after those nights, he made sure they got their fills of nutrients and greens that they may have missed.

Such was one of those nights, as Viktor poked at the chicken broth and Haruka happily complimented it, excited for something warm to take into work as lunch.

Conversation was in a lull as everyone ate, Haruka reading an anatomical textbook in plain view for those with squeamish stomachs, and Kyouya was looking over the night’s math problems and figuring out how he would best explain them to students in a classroom. Viktor sat there, trying to avoid glancing up at the med student’s textbook while he ate.

Suddenly, he placed his spoon down, and the two men turned to him.

“What?” Kyouya raised an eyebrow. “Did I leave a bone in there?”

“No, not that. …Didn’t you buy a boneless chicken?!” Kyouya chuckled as Viktor sighed, shaking his head. “I was wondering if we could have a Halloween party.”

Haruka nearly choked on his spoonful, while Kyouya blinked once, before groaning. “Do we _have_ to host something here? I mean, I’d understand if this was towards the beginning of October, but you’re only giving us a week to work with here, and if it’s about that pool table we pawned off the street, Haruka still has to sew pockets for it…”

“But it would be fun! You said you had to meet up with all your new fellow education majors, right?”

“I did say that, but just because I’m new to the degree program doesn’t mean _I_ have to host it—“

“There’s no harm in it, right?”

Haruka shrugged as they both looked to him for a verdict. “I don’t see why not. I’ll check my schedule. Perhaps we could all make something for it as well.” He eyed Viktor over his glasses. “So that way one person isn’t cooking for the entire party.”

Viktor shrank back from the gaze, and nodded meekly.

“I can at least make cupcakes,” Haruka sighed, and Kyouya had already put the list of homework questions down, trading the soup spoon from his left to his right as he reached for the pencil and a blank sheet of scrap paper. “I’ll make cookies, but I’ll want to do something unique with them.” He began to write down a few ideas and figures, and Viktor sat still, brow furrowed in concentration before he slammed a fist into his palm. “I’ve got it!”

“What are you going to make?” Haruka asked brightly, thrilled that he was going to actually put effort into something.

“I’m going to make a pumpkin pie!”

* * *

Haruka came up the stairs after a shift, relived he had caught a bus this time and didn’t have to drag Kyouya out. He had only gotten a simple text in response:

_“Busy.”_

Blunt, and to the point. Haruka wondered what on earth could have kept his attentions to the point he didn’t respond to his miniature liveblog of texts about almost missing the bus. His answer came in the form of the scene he saw when he opened the door to the apartment, dumbstruck at the oddity of it all.

Kyouya was sitting on the floor at the coffee table, legs crossed as he scribbled on a sheet of graph paper… that fanned into many, spread across every inch of the table, all covered in incredibly long math equations and complex sets of numbers, in a handwriting so tidy and small Haruka was almost envious of it. His own handwriting was extraordinarily awful – to the point he was on track for the second year in a row in his group of medical school friends to win the unofficial “Best Worst Handwriting” award.

Haruka took one glance at Kyouya and knew it was best to not disturb him. Back at Ikemen, he was infamous in his 2nd year for being able to glance at the board and solve an equation in under ten seconds. He never seemed to be paying attention. Haruka heard all the stories from the staff at the library as a 3rd year, and ran into Kyouya a couple times while working there. He often checked out high-level math books – even though all the ladies called him a delinquent and said he never studied a thing. There were also rumors that he only attended math class, but Haruka hadn’t known a thing about what happened until after they met up again, himself and Viktor needing a place to live after their old place got condemned. He was amazed at the transformation in his attitude, work ethic, and style, but never questioned it, not caring that Kyouya wasn’t going to tell him easily.

He just knew that Kyouya was excellent at math, but only when totally undisturbed. Haruka knew he was already risking a lapse in his concentration when the pencil stopped for a moment, so he hurriedly moved into the kitchen, finding something to eat while he sat in the silence of the house, listening to the sounds of the pencil moving back and forth, the occasional flutter of paper, and muttering of Kyouya counting aloud or going over something twice.

Finally, about ten minutes later, there were sounds of him gathering up the sheets of paper and tapping them into one solid mass, about twenty pages thick, then he moved to begin copying shorthand versions of his work down as Haruka timidly looked into the room.

“So I got my shift information back…” he ventured forth, and Kyouya only made a grunting sound as he acknowledged that he was listening.

“I’m afraid I’ve now been assigned to work a sixteen-hour shift on Halloween, so if you wouldn’t mind driving me that morning. In return, I’ll pay for whatever the two of you need for the party and finish sewing those pockets for the pool table tonight.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Kyouya said, tapping the pencil against his face as he studied a sheet of paper, brow furrowed.

“All right,” Haruka said with a smile, watching Kyouya work for several moments longer before moving to get his sewing tin from his room and measure out fabric pieces to cut and begin working with, and moving to join Kyouya in the living room by sitting on the sofa behind him, occasionally glancing up to see numbers and letters that he would never understand.

“This is all for cookies?”

“I’m trying to figure out how to best roll them with minimal effort. It’s technically possible to roll the chocolate and vanilla sugar dough together to get pentagrams, bats, and hollowed circles for those to ice their own Hallow’s Eve symbols in. Then, I simply cut down the dough, get the circles, and bake them into shapes. Easy, once you do all the math out.”

“Oh, yeah. _Easy_ ,” Haruka muttered sarcastically. He snipped the thread and slid it through the eye of the needle, winding it around his finger as he watched Kyouya’s work silently. “Is this really what you’re using your math degree and knowledge for?”

“I can do multivariable calculus, mental mathematical analysis, and currently stand to be the best of the best in the Honors Math program. When you can do all that, come back to me and let me know how to use my degree. Until then, I’ll use it for what I want.”

Haruka smiled as Kyouya huffed, going back to his work.

He would always be impressed with his abilities.

* * *

The night before the party, the cooking began. Kyouya had been preparing other small foods all day in advance, but he considered the cookies to be his best creation. They had come out perfect, and Haruka was extremely impressed as Kyouya brought tray after tray out and arranged them artfully on plates before covering them in plastic wrap and sealing it tight. He set aside a batch for Haruka to take the next day to his shift, which made him happy, despite the fact he’d already taken one while Kyouya was out of the room. He knew the counting would throw him off later, and it would be hilarious to see his face when he went through the plates, wondering why one was missing.

As Kyouya cleaned the last of the dishes and finally slid the last tray away, he settled down with Haruka to eat dinner. Neither of them had seen Viktor all day. That was an occasional occurrence, when he would leave at the crack of dawn for college and not be seen until early the next morning. They had a slight reason to worry that night, since Haruka had Viktor’s samples and knew that he needed them urgently. Haruka had been about to text when the door kicked open.

What could only be described as a “pumpkin with legs” waddled through the narrow doorframe, it’s hands on their belly. It took Kyouya and Haruka a moment to realize Viktor was holding it, as it almost entirely covered his lower half, his arms barely wrapping around it as he dropped it directly on the table, shaking his sore limbs out.

The two other men only stared, before Kyouya sighed, looking to Viktor. “And what’s _this_ monstrosity for?”

“Didn’t I say I was making pumpkin pie?” Viktor crossed his arms, offended. “And I’ll have you know, I picked it out myself.”

“Just take your samples before you start baking,” Haruka said casually, attention back to his book as he held out the small vials to Viktor, who drained them in a few moments before handing them gently back.

“Sorry, I’d forgotten that was tonight.”

“We’ll find you a substitute at some point,” he sighed.

“All right! Watch me make the best pumpkin pie ever!” He heaved it up into his arms again, and Kyouya looked back worriedly, hearing a book close behind him and a laugh from Haruka.

“Oh, this is going to be _good._ ”

Kyouya was a tad concerned for his friend, but decided it best to not interfere – it was the first time Viktor was willing to help with anything at all, especially when it came to cooking. However, he wasn’t aware that Viktor would do it so _badly_.

“Did you even look at a recipe before this?” Haruka commented from the table, looking through the narrow doorway.

“I did,” Viktor commented. “Read it before buying a pumpkin and everything. If I got a big one like this, I could make two.” He popped open the pie crust cans and unrolled the dough, lining the bowls and sliding them into the oven to toughen up a bit.

 _So far, so good,_ Kyouya thought quietly, shoulders hunched over a bit as he pressed his palms into his knees, kneading the fabric with concern.

His good thoughts vanished the second Viktor cut canoe-sized chunks. He had let his guard down too early and gone back to his homework, not realizing anything was wrong until he heard Haruka’s giggling, held back by a hand over his mouth.

“What?”

Haruka could do nothing but point, and Kyouya spun around to see that Viktor had been violently struggling with getting all the seeds and string out. He had gotten all the seeds, it seemed, by a quick glance… but there was a lot of string left. Too much. And it was dipped into the bowl. Kyouya moved to stop him, but Haruka reached across the table, grabbing his shoulder.

“No, no…” he wheezed. “Let this run its course.”

Kyouya could only watch in horror instead as Haruka prevented him from helping. And Viktor too – when the pie crusts came out a little burned on the bottom because he had left them in for too long, Kyouya offered his help, and found it denied by Viktor.

“I can do this myself, Kyouya! Jeez, you don’t need to cook all our meals, you know.”

Kyouya then realized it was best to settle back and watch Viktor do it himself. Partially because he was being brutally honest about Kyouya making all their meals, and partially because it would be interesting to see where he went next as the massive pumpkin slices came to a boil and Viktor didn’t just peel the skin off – instead taking a lot of the pumpkin with it before moving to mash it.

It didn’t soften well enough with the potato masher. Kyouya watched this carefully, knowing that he wasn’t doing anything wrong, before gasping like his heart had just skipped a beat.

Haruka called out from behind him, “Use the food processor!”

Kyouya wanted to whirl on him, and say that it wasn’t going because _oh God did Viktor use the center of the pumpkin_ but it was too late by then, watching as Viktor shoved it all as best he could inside and began to grind it, becoming concerned as the stringy parts still stuck to it, and finally moved it to the blender at Haruka’s suggestion once again. Kyouya just laid back, realizing right then how much he would have to clean up if Viktor didn’t help. The entire process of getting all the pumpkin mashed took a good thirty minutes at best, and the hour only grew later and later. Haruka gave up the fun, wishing Kyouya good luck (with an annoying wink that Kyouya did not appreciate) before going to bed.

Viktor, all the while, diligently continued mixing everything, putting in the correct measurements of evaporated milk, and eggs. The electric mixer began to whir to combine, and Viktor went to the cabinet, reaching back to dig out the outdated spices.

“Kyouya?” He called out. “We have cinnamon and nutmeg – all that stuff, right?”

Kyouya glanced up, weary. “Yes, I’m sure we do, here, I can come help look—“

“Got it!” Viktor beamed, closing the cabinet. “All right, thanks.”

Kyouya sighed, and decided that if he was going to be staying up anyway, he may as well go in and start cleaning out the food processor. Upon stepping into the kitchen, he saw the mixture in the bowl, something inside that he could not find the words for.

It was _grey_ , almost purple, and lumpy. The entire thing was a pain to mix, hearing the liquid of the ingredients squelch and slop.

“You’re going to use that.”

“Doesn’t it look festive? Also, I know spices don’t go bad, but the ginger was dated from two years ago, and the nutmeg two and a half. Just so you know.”

That comment caused Kyouya to pause at the sink as he washed the container. Turning to glance at the mixture before looking to Viktor, he slowly stuttered out, “T-two _years?”_

“Yeah, but spices don’t go bad.”

Kyouya gave a heavy sigh, deciding that there was no way it could get any worse as Viktor poured the “pumpkin” in and shoved them both into the oven, setting a timer for forty minutes before making up an excuse about homework to run from the kitchen, Kyouya missing the back of his shirt by mere inches to keep him for cleaning. Deciding it wasn’t worth the effort, he moved around the kitchen, cleaning the bowls, the food processor, blender, and all the tools Viktor had managed to find himself using – six forks seemed like overkill – and was happy when he finally got to wipe down a few counters and stacked remaining plates and bowls for Viktor to take over.

The timer rang ten minutes later as Kyouya began to go over each of his foods for the next day, making sure that they were untouched and that they would last for the party. “Viktor!”

The door opened and Viktor bolted in, sliding to a stop before the oven and opening it.

Kyouya wasn’t sure what exactly he smelled, but upon looking inside, he was horrified to see that the edges of the pie were bubbling with liquid still, somehow not evaporated.

“…I’ll give them twenty more minutes?”

“And when you do,” Kyouya said, taking Viktor’s sleeve with a harsh grip, “You will be cleaning all these bowls and tools. _Understood?”_

Viktor gulped. “Understood.”

* * *

The next morning, on Halloween, Kyouya stared at the sight of the kitchen. He was happy to see it clean, realizing that his staying up until midnight doing all the dishes was not just a dream and had not been wasted, and that Viktor had held up his end of the bargain. However, he swore there was still the lingering smell of burnt pumpkin and ancient spices he had neglected to replace, which he now was making a note of on the shopping list that hung from the fridge. _Ginger, nutmeg… a new roommate…_ Kyouya added the last on the list with humor behind his intent.

That would soon change as he opened the door to the fridge.

The pies had turned a color that could only be described as “vomit, if it was purple”. Kyouya stared disgustedly at them, trying to discern if he should leave them be or throw them out on the spot. As he knelt down to move one, he saw that the liquid had filled the sides like a moat, leaving the clump of pumpkin in the middle. He suddenly felt blessed that the cold seemed to have caused the smell to vanish.

Haruka stepped into the kitchen next, looking more awake and refreshed than Kyouya, but still hunched at the thought of a sixteen-hour day. His eyes fell to the sight of Kyouya kneeling before the fridge, palms together as he leaned his hands against his lips, seemingly deep in thought. Then they looked to the pies. And Haruka’s eyes went wide.

“…That’s not pumpkin pie.”

“…I know.” Kyouya eased himself up and took the leftover container from the fridge, holding it out to Haruka. He took it and began to collect the other things from around the kitchen, watching Kyouya out of the corner of his eye as he walked into the living room, sighing as he glanced around.

“You know,” Haruka ventured, “I could drive myself if you want to stay here for party preparations.”

“Absolutely _not,”_ Kyouya said, spinning on a heel. “The last time you took a sixteen-hour shift and attempted to drive yourself home, that was not safe for you or the people around you. So I am driving you, that way you are not tempted to drive yourself home.”

Haruka smiled at his friend’s genuine concern, giving up the fight. “All right, that’s fine. Have it your way.”

Kyouya gave a huff, looking back towards the living room once again, before deciding he was going to enlist his friend’s help.

Viktor had never woken up to a louder – and more furious – knock in his life.

* * *

The party that night was wholly unentertaining at the start. Viktor had invited some of his history major friends along and Kyouya, his fellow education majors who were all happy to come and get away from the looming thought of internships and teaching. He began to even enjoy talking to them as the night went on and they were all stunned at his cookies and frosting idea, the math teachers-in-training begging to look at his calculations and work with excited eyes as the poured over it in the corner, Kyouya explaining things to them bit by bit.

However, that wasn’t the most exciting part of the night. No, the most exciting part for Kyouya was when the first and only slice of pumpkin pie vanished from the table – leaving both of them relatively untouched. And he knew exactly who had taken it, since that person had only declared it to the whole room.

Viktor was naturally anxious when no one had taken a slice of his pies. They looked entirely unappealing, and everyone knew it, avoiding them like the plague. So he decided to draw attention to it himself. Grabbing the knife he had laid next to it, Viktor sliced down through the pumpkin pie, taking a huge piece and flinging it onto the plate with a wet _slop_!

“I can’t believe nobody’s eating the pumpkin pie!” he commented aloud, enough for Kyouya to just hear him over the din of the conversation in the room. Turning from the math papers, he saw a few other people looking to Viktor, all conversations or pool matches stopped, their faces a blend of awe and horror as Viktor picked up a fork.

And in that moment, Kyouya knew that Haruka would be _so bitter_ about missing this.

Viktor took a forkful of the stuff, shoving it into his mouth. His face frowned, for just a moment, but he pulled his lips back harshly into a grin, chewing and swallowing. It looked extremely forced, but Viktor gave a thumbs-up, to the claps of a few people as the conversation resumed again in the room. Kyouya chuckled at the sight, Viktor casting a glare his way as he walked back into the crowd after picking up one of Kyouya’s cookies and absolutely covering it with icing.

Later that night, after Kyouya had finished talking with people and was beginning to see them out, he began to clean up a little as the party dwindled, the last pool game going and the drunk people finding a ride home. And as Kyouya moved a stack of plates and cups away from the corner of the table, he paused at the sight he saw behind it.

A plate with a piece of pie, a single bite taken out of it.

Kyouya could only bend his head forward and laugh, before throwing it and the rest of the pies away in the trash. And Viktor made no move to stop him.


	3. Cooking Lessons

“Haruka.” Kyouya cornered the med student on the sofa, placing one hand on the arm and the other against the back, effectively pinning him in. Haruka recoiled a bit, clutching his medical book defensively to his chest.

“Kyouya,” he replied, as casually as he could.

“I’m going to teach you how to cook, whether you like it, or not.”

Haruka blinked a couple times behind his glasses, before giving a slight laugh. “Is this because of Viktor’s pumpkin pie incident?”

“Yes. And I would teach him today, but he’s not here. So, you’re my next victim, because I have sworn to myself that I will teach you both to cook before we part ways.”

Haruka saw that Kyouya was genuinely serious about this, and gave a sigh, grabbing his stack of notes that he used as a bookmark and shoving them into his textbook, closing it with a snap.  

“Fine. I’ll bite. Solely because I don’t know enough and really should learn, since after I graduate med school I can’t actually live on instant noodles and cheese and crackers my whole life.”

The next thing Haruka knew, his textbook lay abandoned on the sofa and Kyouya was dragging him into the kitchen by the arm, and digging through the fridge for the ingredients he had bought for this purpose.

“Here. We’re making a rice, meat, and vegetable dish.”

“…That sounds really complicated, Kyouya. Can’t we start with something simpler?”

“Trust me. This will be easy. Can you get the jar of bouillon cubes and rice bag out of the cabinet?” He nodded to a door while closing the fridge, unwrapping the plastic from the meat after the carrots and broccoli hit the counter.  

Eventually, they had gathered all the necessary tools and ingredients, and Haruka watched as Kyouya began to patiently go about his work.

“First, oil. You’ll want to remember it’s the vegetable oil. All of our necessities for cooking are in the cabinet you just opened.” He pointed again, and Haruka suddenly got the sneaking suspicion that Kyouya wasn’t just teaching him how to cook – that he was also using him as a rehearsal for explaining things to Viktor.

“All right.” Haruka took the jug and examined the label, before placing it back onto the counter while Kyouya explained the next steps.

“We’ll pour in the oil soon, but before doing so, I will cut the meat up. Can you wash the broccoli and carrots?” He nodded to where he had left them by the sink, and Haruka obliged, getting the paper towel to lay washed vegetables on and beginning to scrub at the dirt on the carrots.

 _Are they usually this dirty?_ Haruka began to obsessively scrub at them, fingers growing raw by the second carrot as he tried to rid of every single spot and dust on their skins, his medical training telling him in the back of his mind that _if there is a speck of dust on your fingers, you are instantly unsanitary. The proper washing process is…_

“Haruka.”

He was pulled out of his focused state and looked to the source of the sound, seeing Kyouya there, his knife and fingers paused over the meat.

“You don’t have to wash them completely. Just go over each side once. You won’t get sick, I promise. You know that peeling's the hard part, right?”

Haruka froze, tension growing in his shoulders. "I... hadn't considered that."  

Kyouya let out a slight laugh. "Remember everything you have to do."

It took a bit of willpower to not dig at the skin of the carrot and get all the blemishes out, but Haruka was content to set them aside and move onto the broccoli next. This was harder to wash, he felt, especially as little specks of green fell off as he worked. But they were washed, and by the time he finished, Kyouya had effectively chopped the meat into small, easy-to-eat pieces, setting them aside and getting two smaller cutting knives and a peeler from the drawer.

“Here. Carrots are easy to peel; just mind your fingers." He gave a quick demonstration for Haruka, showing how to properly hold the tool and go from top to bottom, before handing the vegetable and peeler back to him. "I’ll take the broccoli. After you're done, cut the carrots into circles, then cut the circles into quarters or halves. Take your pick.”

Haruka nodded, getting to work as Kyouya poured the a little bit of vegetable oil into the pan, to begin heating it up. He then stood next to Haruka, moving his hands easily around the vegetable, slicing off the branches as he could and cutting more and more of the stem off as he went up the tree. Haruka could barely finish his first carrot as he kept getting distracted by the fluidity of the motion in Kyouya’s hands, noticing little things in them that he had never seen before – small scars and nicks in his knuckles, and callouses on the edges of his fingers that looked as if they were fading with time.

Kyouya glanced to see how Haruka was doing, noticing that there was a lack of motion in the corner of his eye. When he saw the other man staring, he pulled his hands back a bit, brushing off the stare.

“They’re nothing.”

“You still have scars from school, then,” Haruka commented, finishing off the peeling of his first carrot before setting it aside.

“It’s not like you don’t either, on your arms. I saw the scars from that one attack. Still didn't meant to let that happen.”

“Do you still have the one on your elbow?”

“And the one on my forehead,” Kyouya replied casually.

“I completely forgot about that one, since you wear your hair down now. Whatever happened to that headband, anyway-“

“I threw it out.” Kyouya finished cutting his broccoli and motioned for Haruka to hand him the peeler and second carrot, since Haruka was taking too long to peel and he should start cutting instead. “I didn’t need it anymore, after all.”

Haruka paused, realizing that the statement Kyouya had made meant _that’s it._ Swallowing the words he wanted to say, Haruka went back to finishing his cuts as Kyouya moved to add the beef to the pot, taking up the vegetables next. “Get two cups of water, and pour it in.”

Haruka did as asked, glancing back to see Kyouya crushing the bouillon tablet and stirring all the ingredients together in the oil.

“Now, when it boils, we’ll pour the rice in. We’re making enough for multiple servings, just so we have enough for lunches or dinners this week. With the end of the semester coming up so soon, I fear that I won’t want to cook as much. Not with homework piling up already.”

“It’s your fault for taking up the education major, too,” Haruka commented.

“I did it for reasons I doubt you would understand.”

“I won’t understand. Unless you’d like to try explaining it to me.”

“…Not now.” Kyouya’s eyes fell briefly, before he moved to take the cup Haruka had used for water and used it to scoop the rice out, waiting for the moment when it started boiling before pouring in the rice.

“Now, we’ll turn it to low heat for fifteen minutes. Then, we’ll have to check on it and stir it. Where is the lid…”

Haruka noticed it first and took it up, holding it out to Kyouya with a smile, who accepted it and placed it on before turning down the heat and moving back into the living area with Haruka, who simply got his textbook and notes back out while Kyouya went to get a book off their communal shelves.

“You know, Haruka, you’re fine at the cooking deal. I think you could make something of it.”

Haruka smiled softly. “When I have again, perhaps. Maybe I’ll use the extra time a school shift provides me to experiment more in the kitchen.”

Kyouya looked back at Haruka, curious for more information. The other man noticed the silence and did the same, meeting Kyouya’s eyes before letting his shoulders drop.

“I don’t have to tell my story, either, not to you.”

“Which is fair,” Kyouya said slowly.

“…I feel as if I owe Ikemen a debt for giving me a scholarship to the school. I worked all those long hours in the library to pay them back, and had gotten into so many schools because of their reputation. I worked hard as a student then, just to be where I am today with my degree and my medical training. I think I would like to be the doctor. The one there is thinking of retiring soon.”

“Isn’t there an opening there as well for the math teacher position?”

“I think that got filled. Some older man.”

“Ah.” Kyouya raised his head slightly in understanding, turning back to the shelves.

“And being a doctor’s not bad pay, either,” Haruka said, deadpan. However, that didn’t stop him and Kyouya from dissolving into a small fit of giggles, gathering themselves together again a few moments later.

“…It would be nice to help my parents pay off a few of their debts, too.”

The silence was awkward as Haruka bore his heart, quickly closing it again to the sound of nothing. Kyouya could only quietly pull his chosen book from the shelves and settle down next to him, unsure of what to say.

…If anything should even be said.

* * *

Kyouya targeted Viktor when the next weekend arrived, as the last leftover container of beef and rice vanished from the fridge. He seized him before he could escape back to his room, pulled him into the kitchen by the scruff of his jacket.

“Kyouya, _come on_ , no, I don’t want to do dishes again—“

“This isn’t about dishes. This is about making sure you _actually_ understand how a kitchen works. And we’re going to make a soup.”

Viktor stopped his squirms, instead doing his best to bend his head back and look at Kyouya. “What kind of soup? Tomato’s easy—“

“Italian wedding.”

“…Isn’t that the one you make when we’re almost out of a lot of ingredients?”

“Why yes,” Kyouya said, smiling back at Viktor as he released his grip. “It is.”

Viktor gulped, knowing that meant it was his turn to go on a shopping trip soon – the list on the fridge had his name on it for this cycle.

“Anyway, let’s get to work. We’ll need to be making all the meatballs, so I’ll need your help making up the mixture and while I make the shapes, you can cut our other ingredients. You should just watch me cook more often, or let me help – those pumpkin pies were a disaster.”

Viktor nodded solemnly, knowing full-well after the incident that it wasn’t that he was bad at following directions – he just needed to pay more attention to what he was using and think rationally about the kitchen.

“I do want to learn, Kyouya,” he said, and Kyouya nodded.

“I know you do.”

At that, they went to work gathering ingredients, Kyouya explaining the entire time why he was doing what he did, the reasoning behind each action of how to beat the eggs together and knowing the signs of such, how you did have to get your hands dirty for folding the ground beef, eggs, and bread crumbs over and over, before putting in the basil and cheeses.

“Next, I’ll need to you dice the carrots after finding me the pasta and spinach. Oh, and the chicken broth, I’ll need you to pour that in.” Kyouya laid out a piece of parchment paper on a tray, beginning to mold the beef into small meatballs as Viktor washed his hands of the basil and cheese.

“Got them,” he said, bringing them back over, placing everything but the quarts of broth aside.

“Pour the broth in, leaving about half left in that third one.”

“How much are we making, Kyouya?”

“Enough to last us the week. Haruka’s got a full shift schedule along with his first tests, I’ve got a couple education seminars and math tests, then you have the trip you’re going on, correct?”

“Fair enough,” he said, pouring it in and leaving it to boil as he moved to begin cutting carrots, Kyouya guiding his knifework while molding the meat.

“Where did you even learn all this, Kyouya?”

He raised an eyebrow, but did not look to Viktor. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you struggled a bit back at the first apartment, but… you still can cook like this. You’re still able to learn all these steps, and when we were at the apartment, you clearly had prior experience.”

“You saw me in knife fights. I mean, none were voluntary, I had to steal the opponent's weapon...” He said it with a smile, but Viktor shook his head, solemnly.

“That wasn’t _it_ , Kyouya. You clearly have practice in a kitchen—“

“My parents taught me. I suppose I remembered more than I thought, given the circumstances.”

“You were always good at picking things up and doing them well. That’s what made you the best fighter; you could always use your opponent against themselves and learned the rules after watching you take on all those bullies and get into all those fights. It was… impressive. I admired you for that, honestly. You could do whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted, all your life.”

Kyouya watched as Viktor sighed, his hands pausing at the work for dicing the carrots. Kyouya glanced to the side, studying his friend.

"It's just a little unfair, you know? I mean, I was willing to help you out, but sometimes I wondered if I would just bog you down. There were times it made it easier... that bat that swung at your skull, for example-"

"You took the brunt end of that weapon. I still haven't forgiven you for that, since it broke your arm."

"Either way. I wondered how you felt when I left so suddenly to be with my family."

Kyouya finally placed the knife down, allowing Viktor to do the same with his kitchen tools. "I suppose I was offended. I had no idea why you left, and when you showed back up again, out of the blue... in my  _senior year_ of all times. I swear, you could have done serious damage to my undergraduate grades." 

"But I didn't! Being roommates then wasn't _that_ bad, right?"

"You came back with nasty habits. It was hard to figure out what happened to you until I realized the blood in our sink was not coming from external injuries." 

"I didn't mean to come back with those nasty habits." Viktor blew a sigh, watching a few strands of hair rise and fall. "It... happened. I didn't mean for it to get this way. Now, I don't know what will come of it. I'm stronger, I can hear better, but what does that mean for my future? For what you and Haruka have to do for me?"

"I'll admit, I'm impressed that Haruka was so calm about us telling him. He took it like a champ." 

"I think that's because he was dead after a first year of medical school and desperate for a roommate to pay rent. He needed anybody he could get."

Kyouya laughed, turning back to his food. "We are lucky in that regard. I'm glad we've met now. Perhaps it's when we were all meant to meet. I don't mind it one bit. But Viktor, like Haruka keeps saying, we'll have to find a substitute for you soon."

"That means trusting someone outside the family with it. ...That isn't you or Haruka."

"Still..." 

"It's fine, for now, okay?" Viktor forced a smile, despite his harsh tone, and went back to his cooking. Kyouya watched his face fall, seeing his pace slow. With solemn eyes, Kyouya looked back down to his work, not wanting to push Viktor for the full story. Instead, he changed his pace to accommodate Viktor's.

It was the most he could do.

 


	4. The Missing Child

Viktor gave a blissful sigh of relief as he pressed the second earplug into his ear. “There. Now it’s much more bearable.”

“I’m glad you’re finally remembering to bring those.” Kyouya gave a quick smile before looking back in front of him, watching the crowds meander through the mall.

“Me too! They really do help, and I should be able to last until Haruka comes and finds us later. I’m excited that we’ll all get to eat at the food court.”

“What, is my usual cooking not good enough?” Kyouya raised an eyebrow, his expression offended. Viktor instantly waved his hands before him, taking back the statement.

“No, no! Your cooking’s great, Kyouya! But sometimes you just _need_ that little bit of unhealthy in your life, you know?”

“You can afford to say that, since your body doesn’t care. Either way, there’s not much else in here that we can actually buy. The television sets are too expensive… clothes are usually marketed at women, but the stores that have men’s clothes are of high quality and cost even more… then there’s kid’s stores on every floor…”

“If you’re going to be pessimistic about this,” Viktor muttered from next to him, “you can just sit on a bench and let me roam free.”

“No chance,” Kyouya said, smirking at Viktor. “You’re stuck with me.”

“Aha,” he retorted. “Wait, Kyouya, over there!”

He dragged him towards a window display, excitedly pointing at it before they moved on to the next. On occasion, they would go inside and look at products, either to make Christmas shopping lists for others or laugh at the prices. As the amusement died down, their search shifted to practical things they wanted to buy, Kyouya finding himself gazing in a window at high-quality watches, knowing he wouldn’t able to afford one anytime soon. Viktor watched him sigh, idly standing around until he heard something from behind him. The sound was muted and barely audible, but he turned to confirm his suspicions, finding the source instantly.

A boy was crouching on the floor, crying to himself. His glasses were askew, and was wearing a middle school uniform. A quick glance around showed that there weren’t any parents nearby, and Viktor nervously shifted from one foot to the other, before deciding to walk over to him.

“Hey there,” Viktor said, getting the boy’s attention as he crouched down to his level. His face was tear-stained and red, raw from crying. “Are your parents missing?”

The boy bit his lip, hesitant to respond, but glanced up higher as a shadow fell over Viktor, who also bent his head back to find Kyouya standing above him.

“And who’s this?”

“I don’t know, Kyouya,” he sneered back, gesturing for his friend to join him near the ground. “I only just found him.”

Kyouya sighed, kneeling down next to Viktor, looking to the boy with concerned eyes. “What’s your name?”

The boy stared, looking at them both with wide eyes, before sucking in a deep breath and responding.

“M-My name is Touru. I-I’m twelve years old.”

“And did you lose your parents?” Kyouya moved to quickly elbow Viktor, who barely held back a laugh at the sight of a crying preteen.

“My m-mom. I’ve never lost her be-before, and I’m scared of her getting mad.”

“I’m sure she just wants to find you,” Viktor said, but the boy began to cry again, causing the two older men to wince and lean away.

“She’s missing, and I walked away, and she told me to not go too far, but then we separated and now I’m _lost_ , and— and I’m so upset with myself for even getting lost in the first place…!”

“Hey, hey, calm down.” Kyouya’s voice was steady, and Viktor talked next, trying to sound reassuring.

“You don’t need to beat yourself up over this, okay?”

“B-But it’s my fault.”

“It doesn’t mean you also can’t fix it.” Kyouya stood up and held out his hands, helping Touru up off the ground. “Do you have your cell phone?”

“I didn’t bring it today…” Touru sniffled as he touched his pockets one more time. “I’m sure of that.”

“Then here. Do you know her number?” Viktor tugged his phone out of his pocket and held it out to Touru. “Can you dial it in? It could help us find her faster.”

Kyouya nodded in agreement as Touru typed the number in and held it to his ear – but handed it back over seconds later with a frown.

“What’s the matter?” he asked as he took it back. “Did she decline the call?”

“Maybe because of an unknown number?” Kyouya offered, but Touru shook his head, the tears welling up again.

“No, it went right to her messages.”

“Then why not leave one? She might just be on the phone right now, you know?”

“No, I know why. She forgets to charge her phone a lot…” Touru’s shoulders fell slightly, while Viktor dropped his hands in defeat.

“ _Now_ what are we supposed to do?”

“Search on foot, obviously. Do you remember where she last was?”

Touru nodded and they walked towards their destination, with a barebones description from Touru to help find the mother, in case they walked by her. However, upon reaching the storefront and looking around inside, they found no trace of her, deciding to then explore the area immediately outside.

Touru was becoming anxious as they took more and more time. The two other men had introduced themselves and said they were going to stay by him until they found his mother, and he believed that. He felt a bit better with their company, but was off-put by the grim silence that surrounded them, wanting to ignore the din of the mall.

“So…” His voice caught Kyouya and Viktor’s attention, causing them to look down at him, “… Did you two ever get lost in the mall when you were in middle school?”

At the question, Viktor laughed aloud. “Get lost? Nah, Kyouya and I never went to this mall with our parents. We came here alone _all_ the time.”

“Really?” Touru’s eyes widened as Kyouya sent a glare Viktor’s way, but he only smirked and kept talking.  
“Yeah, we were young and bold then. When we were in middle school, we could just come here if we wanted after school. Then in high school, I remember the time you and I came here together, Kyouya – do you remember that?”

“Yes, and I quite vividly remember it as the time you nearly got us kicked out… because you almost interfered in a gang debate that I had under control.”

Touru was now thoroughly fascinated, listening intently as Kyouya told the story of how he single-handedly had to stop Viktor from fighting, while then managing to push off the rest of the gang, and Viktor peppered it with dramatic details that answered Touru’s more invasive questions, before deciding they should walk back to the store where Touru had left his mother to wait there.

“So is that how you guys met?”

“No way, that’s a totally different story. But we did meet in high school – one not far from here, actually.”

“Which school is that?”

“Ikemen Academy,” Kyouya said, giving a sigh. “It was an excellent institution, but the teachers weren’t the greatest.”

“I’m sure they’re all better now, right?”

“Well, I’m sure they would be, since I last heard they were hiring many new teachers. Why do you ask?”

“My mom says it’s a super good school! She talks about it a lot, and I think I want to apply there for high school.”

“Really!” Viktor grinned broadly. “I have fond memories of the place. I’m sure a smart kid like you will fit right in there.”

“You think so?”

“I know so. Now, do you wanna sit outside on the bench, or inside?”

“Outside.”

As they settled down, Viktor tugged his phone out to check Facebook, while Kyouya asked if Touru played chess, pulling up the app to begin playing. Before long, they were locked in a match, only interrupted by a laugh from Viktor, or a mutter of thought from Touru or Kyouya.

Suddenly, Viktor sat up straight, holding out his phone excitedly. “Hey! Haruka texted! He’s done!”

Kyouya glanced up from his phone briefly, his eyes flickering back down to the game as Touru made his move. “Tell him where we are so he can find us.”

“Already done, and…! He’s coming our way.” Viktor slipped his phone into his pocket, watching the match over Kyouya’s shoulder and trying to make him pull wrong moves, causing Kyouya to argue with him and Touru to laugh at their antics until Haruka arrived, carrying a couple bags and slightly out of breath. However, he looked from the duo to Touru sitting next to them, brow furrowing in confusion.

“Who’s that?”

“Touru!” Viktor announced as the boy in question leaned back a little bit, and Haruka only appeared to be more confused.

“What’s he doing here? Is he one of your students, Kyouya?”

“He’s a lost child,” Kyouya said. “We’re waiting to see if his mother comes back.”

“Have you contacted her?”

“We’ve done all that already!”

“Did that include going to the front desk and using the intercom system?”

At that suggestion, silence fell within the group, and Haruka gave an exasperated sigh.

“ _Neither_ of you considered that as an option?”

With that, the four of them walked towards the customer services desk, putting through an announcement, the mother coming just three minutes later. She embraced Touru, relieved to have found him and listening to Touru apologize profusely.

“You don’t have to worry, it’s okay,” she murmured as he couldn’t stop, crying again as he said he had failed to find her and listen to her instructions. “I promise.” As she hugged him again, she smiled and thanked the men behind Touru. Kyouya nodded in response and Viktor smiled, saying it was no trouble. Touru relaxed a minute later, spinning to face the two of them again with a bow.

“Thank you so much for helping me!”

Viktor leaned down, giving a huge grin. “It was no trouble, little guy! You were brave and helped a lot.” He held out his hand, high-fiving Touru. After that, he turned to Kyouya next, looking up at him for just a moment.

“What?” Kyouya was confused by the intense gaze, but as he spoke, Touru wrapped his arms around Kyouya’s torso, causing him to sputter and raise his arms away in surprise. At a glance and glare from Haruka, he put them back down and rubbed Touru’s hair.

“You did great, kid. Don’t get lost again, okay?”

Touru pulled back and gave a nod. “I promise!”

Good-byes and last thank-yous were exchanged, and as they let their hands fall, Haruka looked at both Viktor and Kyouya in turn, a disapproving frown on his face, sighing heavily.

“Why wasn’t the front desk your _first_ idea?”

“Because of the thrill of an adventure is more fun than the easy way out, right, Kyouya?”

“I’ve outgrown that notion since high school. I just go along with your ridiculous antics.”

“That’s no fair! You totally suggested the helping him idea first, and where to go!”

“And last I checked, you were the one who found him in the first place. _Your_ first thought should have been the front desk—!”

“…Do you two just want to go to the food court, now?”


	5. Haruka’s Canned Cheese

As a medical student, Haruka considered himself unworthy of having time to eat. It wasn’t that he abstained from eating entirely, or denied himself pleasure from doing so – it simply meant that he had to do simple meals. These were usually unhealthy or haphazardly thrown together, but they got him through the long classes or intensive study periods. When it came to getting anything remotely green or cooked, it was Kyouya’s job to help him on that front.

And, luckily, the other man didn’t mind. Kyouya knew that the work Haruka did for his studies was the effort he needed to put in. However, when Haruka walked into the kitchen, retrieving a can from the fridge and a plate from the cabinet, it sometimes made him wonder what apartments filled with medical students did in terms of food.

 _They most likely survive on cheese and crackers like I do._ He felt his shoulders sag at the thought of using the artificial canned cheese, planning to spread it on crackers and take it back to his room. With a shake of the metal container, he tilted the can downward and prepared to squeeze out a hearty amount of it.

However, nothing came out of the can. Finding himself unable to produce anything, Haruka tilted it towards his face with a frown. As he glanced down the nozzle, he realized what a bad idea it might be if it suddenly decided to start spraying.

But, when only a small black hole greeting him tauntingly, Haruka sighed. Flipping it back over, he tried once more to push the nozzle and get some cheese out. But no matter how hard he pressed against the white tip, nothing answered.

“Darn it.” Haruka placed the can back down. He stared at it a moment, drumming his fingers across the counter before moving on. Quickly pulling open a drawer, he retrieved one of Kyouya’s cooking chopsticks.

“This should work,” he muttered, spinning the wooden utensil twice in his fingers before jamming it deep into the can, tugging it out a second later.

Nothing. With a frustrated growl, Haruka lifted the can and slammed it back down against the counter, banging it twice off the surface.

Then it happened.

 

 

A cry from the kitchen alerted Kyouya to whatever had just occurred in the next room over. As he looked up from his laptop, he wasn’t sure if he _wanted_ to know what had made Haruka scream so loudly. The med student was usually composed and collected, and nothing seemed to faze him.

However, when a repetitive string of tame swears followed, Kyouya decided he owed it to his roommate to see if he had burned himself on the stove or cut his finger.

 _Odd that he hasn’t left to treat either injury,_ he thought as he stood and stepped into the doorway. _Isn’t he a doctor—_

However, his mind grinded to a halt as he saw the sight inside the kitchen.

The first thing he saw was an orange liquid, oozing from the ceiling. Coming down like rain, he followed the drops downward. A sputtering hiss accompanied the sight of a wide-eyed Haruka attempting to cover… _something._ He stared at Kyouya with wide eyes as he entered, before frantically trying to stop it again.

It took Kyouya too long to realize that the med student was – poorly – trying to stop an overflowing cheese can. The goopy substance leaked out from between his fingers, spraying everywhere. Not a single space in immediate area was spared from the barrage, while a sickly, cheesy smell filled the kitchen.

“Dammit, dammit, dammit…!” Haruka fumbled, attempting to jam the chopstick in once more. But it only shot out of the nozzle, snapping somewhere out of sight. With his only tool gone, he pressed his palms over instead, trying everything he could. He was acutely aware of Kyouya now standing in the doorway, watching the entire scene in mute silence. An embarrassed flush spread across his cheeks, ashamed that his roommate had to see him like this. Losing a battle with a metal can. Losing a battle with a metal _artificial cheese_ can.

“Do you need help…?” Kyouya’s voice sounded almost distant, and Haruka swore he heard a snatch of laughter in it. While he debated his answer, Haruka felt the pressure dying beneath his fingers, the pile of cheese on the counter coming to a steady stop. Relief coursed through his body like a wave as it choked and sputtered one last time. Finally, Haruka took a step back and evaluated the damage.

The kitchen ceiling had a new stain. That much was obvious – and most likely permanent – and there was cheese coating every surface beneath. What hadn’t settled on the clump around the can had begun to drip off the counter, cover the wall behind it, and stain the clean plates that Kyouya had left out to dry. Slowly raising his head, Haruka made eye contact with Kyouya, wordlessly watching for his reaction.

When none came, he looked back towards the cheese can, spying his plate and crackers underneath, practically buried. With a slow hand, he reached out and picked up a single cracker, scooping up a lump of cheese. Not breaking eye contact with the other man, he placed it into his mouth and began to chew.

At the sight, Kyouya broke out laughing, finally taking in the dirtied kitchen, Haruka’s stained clothes and hands, his askew glasses, and the entire scene that had come about of an exploding can. As he steadily recovered from the sight, Kyouya shook his head with disbelief, letting out a breathless laugh.

“You’re a medical student at the top of your class. And you couldn’t get a _cheese whiz can_ to function without staining the ceiling.”

Haruka’s tone was bitter as he replied, but it was clear he couldn’t help the smile dancing about his lips. “You just shut up.”


	6. "Did Haruka Eat Today?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to @bllueart for checking my math in this first line of dialogue. Because I forgot calculus the second I finished taking it.

“You have to remember your proofs for derivatives. For example, here you can use the sine trigonometric function. Remember? The limit of theta when it approaches zero, of sine-theta over theta is equal to one. You can simplify it further, Hideki—”

“How do you remember all these proofs? I can barely keep them straight!”

Kyouya found that he had no answer for his student. With a sputtering sigh, he glanced at his watch instead. When he saw that half of their hour had gone by without a break, he looked back at Hideki.

“I don’t know what to tell you other than study. But, I do know that it’s time for a break. Why don’t you shut the textbook for a couple minutes and rest?”

“Thank you, Kyouya-san…” Hideki crossed his arms on the table and rested his head in them. Kyouya watched him for a moment, before pushing his chair back. He headed towards the kitchen, intending on getting him and Hideki some water. As he stepped through the doorway, he saw the fridge was already open, spying Viktor crouched before it. He was staring at the contents, frowning at what he saw.  

“Take something and go, why are you leaving the door open?” Kyouya moved to close the door on his friend, but Viktor pushed back, stopping the assault.

“Hey! I’m just counting the leftover containers. I don’t think Haruka’s eating.”

Kyouya froze. “What do you mean, Haruka’s not eating?”

“I mean it! Remember when you made lots of mini dinners and a big soup at the beginning of this week to get us through? You were gonna be busy and all that. Well, I’ve been counting what gets taken and by who… and I haven’t seen Haruka take a single thing out of this fridge. Hell, I don’t think he’s left his room!”

Kyouya’s brow furrowed, and he knelt down to look in the fridge as well. “You’re sure.”

“Absolutely sure. Even on the days I played nice and made myself chicken nuggets or Kraft mac n’ cheese, I would check. He hasn’t eaten a thing. We need to ask Haruka.”

“ _We_?” Kyouya glares at him. “I’m tutoring right now. You do it.”

“If you’re tutoring, then what the heck are you doing in here?!”

“Getting water!” With a huff, Kyouya reached into the fridge and grabbed the water pitcher. He filled two cups in silence before handing it back to Viktor, telling him to put it back. When Kyouya walked back into the living room, Viktor followed close behind, glancing at Haruka’s closed door.

“If you are concerned,” Kyouya said as he placed the cups down and tapped Hideki on the shoulder, “then ask him yourself.”

“No, I’ll wait. He has to come out sometime, right?”

“Not if he’s studying. You said yourself you haven’t seen him. All right, Hideki, let me see you solve this next one.”

As Kyouya tutored Hideki for the next fifteen minutes, Viktor began to pace around the room. He sat on the sofa, only to stand up again two minutes later. He threw long glances at Haruka’s door, drumming his fingers together. Sometimes, he would even look Kyouya’s way and open his mouth, but snap it shut when he thought better of it.

All in all, he was a very annoying distraction.

“Just _knock_ , Viktor.” Kyouya glared at him. “Get it over with.”

“Fine, okay! Jeez.” He marched up to Haruka’s door and knocked twice. “Haruka? It’s Viktor, are you okay in there?”

“What? Yes, I’m fine.”

“You haven’t been eating, Haruka. Get out here so we can feed you something! You need to eat!”

“What do you mean I’m not—” Footsteps trudged across the floor. The door was pulled open. Viktor stared at Haruka a moment, before tilting his head to one side.

“Haruka?”

“Yes?”

“You’ve got… something…” He made a vague gesture to his mouth. Haruka seemed confused for a moment, before his jaw dropped open.

“Oh, no, wait!” He hurriedly covered the chocolate crumbs over his mouth, vanishing back into his room. Kyouya, who had been watching the entire incident with Hideki, shot up from the table.

“Haruka! You better be eating, or—” He stormed over to the doorway, but paused when he saw what was on Haruka’s desk.

There was a tray of Oreos, almost empty. Beside it were two party-sized chip bags, crumpled up. Haruka refused to meet Kyouya’s gaze.

“I’m eating.”

“Not healthy foods.” Kyouya groaned as he reached towards Haruka, dragging him out of his bedroom. “Let’s go. You’re getting out of your room for longer than ten minutes and eating something that will actually fill your stomach.”

Hideki could only watch as his tutor dragged a disheveled man out of a bedroom, the red-haired man following close behind. For a moment, he wondered if Kyouya was going to come back and finish the session – but he leaned out of the kitchen, a moment later, looking right at him.

“Hideki. When you get into university, make sure you take breaks and eat food that isn’t junk once and a while. Understood?”

Hideki swallowed. “Understood.”


	7. Christmas Shopping

“I need it.”

Viktor could not stop staring at the eye-catching artificial tree. Standing proud at eight feet tall and glowing every color of the rainbow, the lights sparkled across his features before Kyouya hooked an arm through his, dragging him down the aisle.

“You don’t need that kind of Christmas tree. Besides, we’re doing this for Haruka, not you.”

“But you saw that tree, Kyouya! It was amazing!”

“It would also be a hassle to get into our apartment. And Haruka asked for all of us to come, so we have to all agree.”

“I’m still sorry for dragging you both out.” Haruka smiled at them gratefully. “I understand that my reasoning might have been strange, but…”

“It’s fine. You didn’t get opportunity to buy a tree when you were younger. We can fix that now.”

Haruka beamed at Kyouya’s understanding. “Yes! And, it’s an absolute joy to be able to buy one now.”

“Then, clearly, we gotta get you the best Christmas tree ever, right?” Viktor finally pulled himself out of Kyouya’s grip, but narrowly avoided elbow aiming for his side. “I mean the best one ever that _you_ want! What are you looking for?”

Haruka glanced around the displays. “Nothing in particular. I don’t have one in mind—”

“Then how about that one?” Viktor pointed at a neon pink tree, glittering with silver sparkles and adorned in golden ornaments. However, his hand was slapped away by Kyouya, coupled with a sharp glare.

“Let Haruka decide for himself.”

“No, it’s okay! I really don’t know what I want, myself. There’s so many options…” Haruka trailed down the aisle steady pace, maneuvering into the next one when he didn’t see anything he liked. The three of them pointed out trees to each other as they walked up and down, assisting Haruka in narrowing down just what he was looking for.

Finally, Haruka reached an unexpected conclusion.

“I think this one would be nice.” Haruka pointed to the last one on a shelf – a small, unassuming box with a simple green tree pictured on the front. It was clear there was nothing special to it – save for the attached advertisement detailing it’s collapsible features and the “realistic look minus the effort!” It didn’t even come with decorations or a star.

However, Kyouya caught the soft look in Haruka’s eyes as he stared at it.

“Any reason why?”

“Just because we never had a tree doesn’t mean I want anything fancy.” Haruka tucked his hands into his pockets, rocking on his heels. “Something simple will do just fine. And this way, it’s reusable, easy to store, and we don’t have to worry about cleaning up after it. It will last through New Year’s and we don’t have to vacuum, and I can enjoy it for longer.”

“Then of course we have to get it!” Viktor immediately pushed past Haruka, lifting the box and holding it tight. “Let’s go!”

“V-Viktor! You don’t need to get that excited—”

“Come on, Kyouya! Let’s go buy this!”

“Sounds like a plan to me. Let’s go.”

“W-wait, you two!” Haruka hurried to follow, digging for his wallet. “Let me at least pay for it.”

However, Kyouya and Viktor turned their heads, giving him wide smiles as they spoke in sync. “Absolutely not.”  

Haruka protested with a pout. Kyouya slowed a step to come alongside Haruka, patting his shoulder. “Let us get the tree, at least. Then we can all contribute to buying decorations.”

Haruka seemed like he wanted to argue further – but ultimately snapped his mouth shut, nodding once. “Fine. You win.”

* * *

 

A couple days later, Kyouya left to go shopping. While he was gone, Haruka took it upon himself to help Viktor learn his way around the kitchen. With a recipe in mind, the two began working to make chocolate chip cookies, promising each other they would finish before Kyouya got home.

“Okay, the butter’s melted.” Haruka peered into the bowl as he removed it from the microwave. “The recipe says we let it cool, right?”

“That’s exactly what it says.” Viktor carefully read the recipe, determination visible on his face.

“All right, then what do we mix first?”

“Sugar, eggs, butter, and vanilla.” Viktor reached towards the ingredients he had gotten out, but Haruka grabbed his elbow.

 _“Brown_ sugar, the recipe says. Get our brown sugar out.”

Viktor did a double-take, eyes widening with realization as he hustled to replace the white sugar in the cabinet and take out the brown. “Got it.” He was careful to scoop out the appropriate measurements as Haruka explained how he cracked eggs without getting the shell in. Before long, Haruka was mixing everything together, the vanilla wafting through the air with a sweet smell as Viktor read the next directions.

“We have to whisk the flour, baking soda, and salt in a smaller bowl. It’s all-purpose flour,” he noted, “which I got out.”

“Good,” Haruka said. “Want to get that ready?”

It wasn’t long before they folded in the chocolate chunks, taking care to not overmix the dough before rolling bits of it in their hands and placing them on a baking sheet. Putting them into the oven, Viktor and Haruka collapsed into the kitchen chairs moments later, sighing with relief.

“I’m so glad we managed to do that,” Viktor said. “Thank you for your help, Haruka. I would’ve screwed it up again.”

“It’s really no trouble. You should learn your way around a kitchen, and I wanted to help. I’m just glad I have the time off to do it, for once. I haven’t even been able to do my Christmas shopping…”

He trailed the last syllable, sitting up slowly in his chair. Viktor watched with fascination as Haruka yanked out his phone, missing his password twice as he asked:

“What does Kyouya like?”

It was then that Viktor realized.

 _“Shit!_ I haven’t done my shopping either! Kyouya, Kyouya likes…” He stood up, pulling his chair closer to Haruka’s in order to see the small phone screen. “Just scroll through the stores, see if anything catches our eye.”

A few minutes went by, and nothing seemed to quite fit Kyouya’s tastes and their ideas. They scrolled through books, aprons with math puns on them, and a series of mugs with three star reviews – before discovering the perfect gift.

“Get him those.” Viktor said without a moment’s hesitation. Haruka couldn’t help his laughter.

“Are you serious? Should I really?”

“Dinosaur cooking utensils? He has a Lurky plush in his room! They’re perfect, he’s loved that stupid dinosaur mascot since we were in high school. And if you’re getting those, I want to buy him dinosaur macaroni and gummies. And get me that cookie cutter right beneath it, too. I’ll pay you back.”

It wasn’t long before the online cart had a good number of dinosaur-themed gifts in it, and the two ordered them before they could break out into more laughter.

“He’s going to love it, I just know it. He’ll _never_ admit it, though!” Viktor fell back into his chair, clutching his stomach. “Just you wait, Kyouya’ll be using those ladles before long!”

“I doubt he will cook the macaroni in front of us, though.”

“No, he totally will, he just won’t share. He _hates_ it when people find out he loves that silly mascot. However, he’s not shy about it, if you ask me. When we were in high school, I saw him chew out a kid when he heard they stole their brother’s plushie. _That_ was a sight to see.”

Haruka’s laughter died out as he registered Viktor’s comment. It struck him that, for all the time he had known Viktor and Kyouya, living in this apartment with them, he was unconsciously aware of the deep bond that ran between them. Despite the fact there seemed to be some tension – the “years between” that Viktor and Kyouya refused to talk about – very little came between them and their relationship. Haruka knew it wasn’t his place to pry, but something in him needed to know – an urge to get closer and learn more about them.

His curiosity won out.

“So,” he said slowly, “how did you two even become friends? I can’t imagine how that would even come about.”

Viktor leaned back in his seat, giving Haruka a scrutinizing stare. Haruka paled at the sight of narrowed red eyes, but let out a breath as they softened immediately.

“You wanna know? It’s not much of a story, really.” Tilting his head back, Viktor scanned the ceiling, as if hoping to find the dredges of his memory in the plaster and cheese stains. “Kyouya used to be a delinquent in his day.”

Haruka’s jaw dropped at the unexpected answer. _“What?”_

“Yeah! I remember now! We were classmates in our second year, and at the time, I just thought of him as another delinquent. Ikemen Academy really had lots of those kids, you know. I didn’t pay much attention to him. But one day, I’m walking outside of school, and there’s Kyouya, _surrounded_ by bullies. I’m talking six to one. He’s clearly outnumbered.”

“So you escorted him to the nurse’s office after he got beat up?”

“No, that’s the thing! I was sitting there, debating if he needed help fighting them off. I wasn’t about to get in trouble that day, but then one of the bullies lunged at him! Like I’m talking zero preparation! But then Kyouya ducked and did something that made him miss and hit the wall –  his fist was probably bruising after that one – and the rest just happened in such a blur. He took on all of the gang by himself and _won.”_

Haruka, entranced by the story, could only stare in response as Viktor continued.

“So, I was really impressed by this – who wouldn’t be, am I right – and I went up to him and asked him how strong he was and all that. We weren’t really friends at that point, you know. I kinda just kept nagging him for fighting advice and sat with him at lunch. People thought I was stupid or something. I’d even help him out with his fights from time to time, even if he insisted otherwise—”

“Which was all the time.”

Haruka and Viktor’s heads swung towards the doorway, where Kyouya was standing with a few grocery bags. He made no further comment as he began to put things away, but Viktor was ready to continue the story nonetheless.

“So after all that, we ended up staying friends. He apparently was really good buds with my uncle, who was a teacher at the time, so it was that mutual ground that brought us closer together. Right, Kyouya?”

“Whatever you say. I never wanted to be friends with you in the first place, anyway. Now, are you two going to help put groceries away, or not?”

“We’re coming!” the two said, scrambling to get out of their chairs as quick as they could – but right then, the oven beeped, causing both of them to leap for the oven instead. They came together with a crash, but managed to laugh it off. Haruka stepped aside to allow Viktor to retrieve the cookies. Kyouya watched them for a moment, a small smile tugging at his lips.

_I’m glad they’re finally talking more._


End file.
